The Ninja in Ashes
by NOMvampire
Summary: Hitomi Miaki never wanted to be a ninja, she only wanted to own a bakery. But because of her dying grandmothers last wish she is thrown into the dangerous life of training and hardship to continue the family tradition of being an Anbu. -Set in the distant future with Naruto being Hokage- OC


**The Ninja in Ashes **

I stared at 'Mr Jack' as he lazed in the patch of wooden in front of me, his stitched grin patched on his face; his button eyes glossy and reflecting the rays of light that danced from the window.

"HI-TO-MI" the rabbit rag doll sang.

"Yes 'Mr Jack'?" I responded.

"Your cakes are delicious!" my hand brought his paw to his mouth to mimic a wiping away movement.

"Thank you 'Mr Jack'! " I laughed while a light breeze brought a chill to my shoulders.

"You should own a bakery, Hitomi!"

"I've always wanted to Mr Ja-"A loud smash of the door made me flinch, but the cowering didn't last long as the familiar soft face of my father loomed in the doorway- unlike 'Mr Jack' missing his smile.

"Hitomi, Your grandmother wants to see you" Roughly grabbing my hand with no explanation I was dragged to the part of the house that was off-limits to playing, the old woman who inhabited it may as well have been a stranger because I barely ever saw her.

The thick smell of medication and pills was just about to bring bile to my throat while I waited for the unnerving woman to get ready to speak. Two roses lingered in their vase next to her surprisingly not wilting at the touch of the cold hearted lady when she adjusted them into place like the control freak that she was- but it's not like I would know if she was always like this.

'Mr Jack' clung onto my hand supporting me through this.

"I am dying" My lips twitched "And as you know, you are the only heir your parents decided to have" pretended I didn't see the dirty look my father gave the old lady.

"So it is necessary you continue the family tradition of being an Anbu Ninja, like I, your mother and your father were"

Even for a lifeless doll- That day I noticed the glossy bright button eyes of his dim down to a dull pallet washed grey.

I was five then, and the years that followed were training for the family technique.

I lay on the cold icy grass that tickle my cheek whenever I raised my torso upright, facing my mother while I took in big chunky breaths from the bitter air. The oaky brunette woman seemed to have all the patience in the world, especially for me.

Wiping a line of scarlet red liquid that dropped down my mouth I licked my lips.

"I can't do it" My mother offered a sad smile as she wiped some dirt that culminated on my cheek, my eyes drawn away from her to not see the disappointment that she couldn't mask well enough.

"Just try again… for grandmother" pacing a couple of steps back she left me a cue to try again. The trees in the garden watched in their eternal ethereal state, completely indifferent to everything around them, completely indifferent to the teary eyed human that kept failing such a simple ninja technique.

Placing two fingers from both hands to rest on each other I concentrated on blocking every sound, taste, smell and anything in sight to be able to force every bit of chakra around my small framed body.

Ignoring the distracting pain of the burning in my mouth and eyes I managed to get further than last time, my entire torso squeezing into itself to leave me in discomfort that I thought was beyond my understanding. Starting with the tips of my fingers and hair I disintegrated into small ashes that limped clumsily to the other side of the garden.

Without the least bit of grace I formed back into myself prematurely to fall hard to the ground.

I lifted my upper body and rested it on my elbows. My stomach felt torn and shredded while the entirety of my insides felt in flames that cruelly swam from head to toe. Suddenly the patch of grass that I faced became decorated in lacings of blood.

More than before.

The tall woman rushed to me but all I could see was the vague outline of a certain rag doll that rested its head on the glass of my bedroom window.

'I'm sorry 'Mr Jack', looks like we won't get that bakery'


End file.
